


Auf Flügeln des Gesanges

by ghee (sabakunoghee)



Category: Twosetviolin, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Behind the Scenes, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff without Plot, Gentle Kissing, Idiots in Love, Insecurity, M/M, Pillow Talk, Talking, Understanding, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27296644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabakunoghee/pseuds/ghee
Summary: The kiss petrified him,It wasn’t their first, but indeed their deepest. The kiss that brought out every single molecule of oxygen from their lungs. The kiss that left them hopelessly breathless and gasping for more and more. The kiss that awakened them; which made them wanted to be one.or,Brett Yang decided to sleep at Eddy Chen's house after he was recharged from the hospital.
Relationships: Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Comments: 5
Kudos: 68





	Auf Flügeln des Gesanges

“Did I wake you?”

Eddy Chen’s caring tone was the first thing Brett Yang listened to once he opened his eyes. His blurred vision didn’t help, but his other senses worked faster and more accurately; he quickly fathomed that he was fell asleep at Eddy’s house. _No,_ to be more specific, on Eddy’s bed. If you want to go further, Brett sank in Eddy’s big, warm, gentle embrace. Brett could feel the soft ups-and-downs of his chest on his back. So close. _Too close_. Eddy’s right hand was effortlessly circling his waist, meanwhile, the other one was under the older one’s head, substituting the pillow. His breath was everywhere around the nape of his neck and it somehow sent Brett to ecstasy; but the brainstorm inside his head kept his feet on the ground.

The younger man could feel Brett slightly shook his head. But the way his partner remained wordless made Eddy worry. He didn’t move a bit, though, “You’re hurt? Should I get you your medicine?”

“Nah, I’m fine,” Brett hummed, his back was still facing Eddy, “It’s just—”

“Yeah?”

Brett bit his bottom lip, “—you’re warm, that’s all.”

Eddy frowned.

That wasn’t Brett. The sentimentality, the honesty, that wasn’t Brett he knew, _ever._ A couple of plots and scenarios ran wild inside his head. Perhaps because he was just discharged from the hospital; some people had a tendency to be more emotional when they were physically injured. There were tons of workloads they had to postpone because of the incident. Eddy never mentioned it, though, not today, not tomorrow, not after he was sure Brett fully recovered. However, it wasn’t Brett if he didn’t sense Eddy’s exhaustion for working without him. They indeed had the whole team, now, but it was just—different.

Brett wanted to get involved as soon as possible, but in order to do so, he had to finish his medication first. It somehow gnawed his soul; to see Eddy getting so overworked. But he couldn’t, he _shouldn’t_ , say anything which might burden his friend. To appreciate Eddy would be the last thing he could do for now.

So, he said it. He complimented Eddy’s presence.

“Do you have anything you want to say to me, Brett?”

_There you go._ Brett subconsciously snorted, a product of him trying to hold back his snicker. His eyes were fluttering as he looked at the night lamp Eddy had dimmed for him. Normally, the taller guy slept with the lamp on just because he had a habit to check social media before bed. It was nice to have Eddy cared for him _this_ much. Brett moved a bit, but didn’t try to escape from Eddy’s hug, “I was just, I don’t know, man, these three weeks were insane,” he started murmuring, “—and I felt silly for not being able to estimate myself, getting hospitalized and such,” Brett heavily sighed, “Sorry for getting you into trouble.”

Eddy didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he buried his nose beneath Brett’s fluffy hair, as if he tried to remember the refreshing scent of his shampoo. There was a huff before Eddy rested his cheek on the crown of Brett’s head, “We’ve talked about it, hey,” he whispered, “It’s not like I’ve never collapsed—things happened, _bad_ ones included,” Eddy formed a smile, and Brett could almost see it from the movement of his lips on his scalp, “Stop saying sorry and blaming yourself, yeah? You’ll do well.”

“Aye, aye,” Brett replied, “Perhaps we should stop joking about our health.”

“It’s almost scary every time you joked, it appears to be true,” said Eddy, “Stop joking about stupid and dangerous thing, then, and start to make a joke about more pleasurable stuff.”

“Which is?”

“Mm, something about three-mil-subs, maybe?”

“You’ll nail it, man, you’ve practiced too much lately.”

“Thanks to you for re-arranging the orchestra part nicely.”

Brett said an inaudible ‘oh, c’mon’ under his breath, but he didn’t object nonetheless, “We should do a quick rehearsal this morning. I’m afraid I can’t catch up,” he shrugged, “…uh, what time is it, again?”

“I don’t know, around two, maybe,” at this point, the sleepiness had flown out the window.

To ask why Eddy hadn’t slept yet would be out of the question. Brett set that aside, “Did I oversleep in the recording room or something?” he recalled they had a session with Hippocrates Cheng to learn how to sing the overtone, and suddenly things went blank. It was too easy to imagine Eddy brought him here instead of letting him sleep on the sofa, “I remember taking the meds after the hot-pot, though.”

“Can’t blame you. Your prescription forced you to have more sleep,” Eddy obliquely replied. He didn’t retell how Brett was being delirious and having a small fever; but instead of talking, he was humming Tchaikovsky's second movement in his sleep, “Now, be a good boy and get some sleep.”

“I’m trying, actually.”

“Right, what can I do to help you sleep, then?”

“Nah, man, you don’t have to, you’re—” Brett’s lips remained open, but the words didn’t come out.

He couldn’t state it,

He wasn’t able to express what he felt in a sentence, words evaporated and definition lost its meaning. There were ‘thank you’ and ‘sorry’ for everything Eddy had done for him, for the trouble Brett caused, for things between them which left unanswered. Brett realized that _something_ changed lately but they didn’t bother to discuss it. At first, it was innocent gestures. Two genuine smiles. A soft pat on the shoulder. Small tickles and harmless grasp. But it gradually evolved into more—he didn’t know how to properly describe this: there was compassion in Eddy’s touches. Or even more than that.

Brett wouldn’t realize if he didn’t re-watch some of their newest recordings; the way Eddy leaned on him, the way Eddy stared at him, the way Eddy laughed even though he didn’t say anything funny. He masked whatever he had in his head quite smoothly, almost naturally, it sent shivers down Brett’s spine no matter how many times he tried to deny. You could say that Brett was the most oblivious individual ever existed on earth. Now, even _that_ kind of person _knew_. Eddy couldn’t be more obvious with his game of flirting, that once Brett took the bait off-scene, things escalated pretty quickly. Brett wondered where the shy, awkward, young Eddy Chen went. He was facing a grown-ass man that day.

A man with not only _love_ , but also passion.

Brett acknowledged that they weren’t ‘just friends’ any longer.

Friends should never steal kisses when they were alone, secretly holding hands under the table when their buddies weren’t watching, spending all the weekends together using the ‘we’re creating more content’ excuse. But they did. They did it every time they had a chance. Always. In clandestine.

And once he left the hospital, Brett chose to stay at Eddy’s house—sure, the ‘recording’ would be his ultimate alibi. His family didn’t argue because ‘they’d known Eddy for a very long time and he could be trusted to take care of their sick family member’. Too many justifications they could affirm, but still, lying to themselves was one hell of a drug. Brett, especially, was still adapting to the drastic changes Eddy had always shown him. Not only he went much softer than he could remember, but the fact that he never truly left, still blew Brett’s mind. Or it was just his vulnerability showing for being wrapped in Eddy’s arms—

“—you’re already here.” _That’s enough._

The gap between Brett’s line confused Eddy, “Dude, you don’t sound like _you_ ,” his voice resounded a splash of concern, “Brett, really, you’re okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

Brett wasn’t sure about it.

“Hey,”

Eddy moved. Very, very gently, as if he was afraid his slightest motion would break Brett. The hand on Brett’s waist pulled him, made the smaller man facing him, eyes met. Eddy could feel the silly thumps inside his ribcage every time he saw himself on Brett’s clear eyes. He fell for him every second and it was beyond his control. Brett was unusually quiet and it freaked Eddy out, but he still concealed his worry with a content expression, “—what’s bothering you?” his vocal couldn’t be softer than this.

“I… don’t know,” Brett hissed, “The meds affect me, I think.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,”

“—and?”

“Weak,” another huff, “I don’t think I can survive this without you.”

The answer made Eddy chuckle, “We’re in this together, Brett, you know I wouldn’t leave you,” Eddy traced the curves of Brett’s face, ditched the remained hair that covered half of his forehead, then kissed away his uneasiness, “You were always there when I was anxious about—things, yeah? What makes you think I won’t do the same?” he restored the appropriate space to see Brett’s complexion.

“It’s both mesmerizing and horrifying to see you like this, y’know,” a bit hesitate, Brett placed his palm on Eddy’s cheek, admiring his side profile. Since when his jawline was this sharp, his messy hair formed a tough-guy persona, it didn’t get through Brett’s head, “In my mind, you’re still the aimless small boy who asked me if I played the violin,” their snickers synchronized, reminiscing the moment they met.

“Which one do you prefer; the nerd Asian kid, or me?” his hand reached Brett’s, both resting on the side of Eddy’s face. The younger one brought it to his lips, leaving small pecks on Brett’s slim fingers.

The gestures still stole Brett’s breath away, honestly.

“They’re the same; they’re _you_.”

That would be an answer Eddy would never anticipate.

The soft-hued orange-colored dimmed lamp radiated Brett’s delicate skin and Eddy swore he could almost listen to the non-existent melody of Howl’s Moving Castle main theme. The reflection of him piercing into Brett stared at him back. When Brett reached the nape of his neck, Eddy was numb.

The kiss petrified him,

It wasn’t their first, but indeed their deepest. The kiss that brought out every single molecule of oxygen from their lungs. The kiss that left them hopelessly breathless and gasping for more and more. The kiss that awakened them; which made them wanted to be _one_. Oh; how Eddy had been waiting for this day would come—the day when Brett finally opened up to him, showed him the true color of his deepest fear, his vulnerability, being emotionally stripped naked until he could see his soul. Transcended the timeline. Across the places. Brett never felt this _safe_ in someone else’s domination. He wouldn’t guess it, though. Not particularly in Eddy’s arms, which he remembered how long and skinny they were, flapping cluelessly like a little bird.

Those hands now, however, as skilfully as the tongue which invaded every inch of his inner-mouth, were robust and in control. They well-calculatedly moved, caressing and indulging Brett in a way no one had ever done. Perhaps, it was their friendship for fourteen years, an amount of trust he never shared with anyone but Eddy. Or maybe it was just this little Chen had perfectly transformed into a refined gentleman who treated him as if he was his most valuable treasure. Whichever, Brett had to admit that he enjoyed it when Eddy’s palms were everywhere on his skin. His intoxicating moans which escaped their hungry lips, his inaudible three sacred words hissed in every motion, his _everything._

When they parted in the need of air, Brett looked at him desperately, lips shaking. His half-lidded eyes begged for mercy; for he couldn’t return Eddy’s big, honest energy. For once, their foreheads met. Eddy held Brett’s face closed, a forlorn attempt to transfer what was inside his twisted mind.

After a painful minute of stillness, Brett spoke,

“Eddy, I think—”

He understood, “You don’t have to say it back if it hurts your pride.”

“It’s not about my pride, you brat,” Brett snorted a burst of sharp, short laughter, “It’s just, I… am sorry for not being able to move as fast as you can, I can’t be as expressive as you are when it comes to showing you how I truly feel about you. I’m the dumb one here, and an asshole too, for not making things clear—”

Eddy shushed him, “Do you like me?”

“I do.”

“Do you want to _stay_ with me?”

“I want to.”

“Then that’s enough.”

“Even though we can’t say what we are—”

“Brett,” Eddy sealed him with another kiss. It was a lighter, quick peck on his lips, but it was more than enough to ease Brett’s anxiety, “—do we really need to label ourselves?” he could feel Brett shook his head. The tension and hesitation around them sublimed in a blink of an eye. Brett was relaxed in his hug and stop questioning. Eddy buried his slender figure in his chest, locked his movement using his long, strong limbs. He wanted to tangle himself with Brett until the morning came; as much as what Brett actually longed for. Eddy sluggishly pulled the blanket on to cover their bodies, fingers entwined, nose touched, “Now sleep, shall we, Mr. Yang,” he jokingly whispered, “We still have tomorrow, yeah?”

His cheeks flushed hot red. Thanks to Eddy’s barrel chest which hid his face, Brett could camouflage his shyness, “Shut up,” Eddy and his dirty jokes, Brett thought, “—I’m sleeping, I don’t hear you.”

“Mm, mm,” Eddy replied with a small smile before shutting his eyes.

In silence, Brett kept on asking himself; are they a moment, or a lifetime? But the way Eddy kept him close was a quiet confirmation that they were _both._ There was one specific moment which worth a lifetime, a moment they’d keep forever—a moment when a part of Eddy was his and only his. The moment lingered still, unbothered, untouched. It was the moment that made them, _them_.

_That’s us._

**Author's Note:**

> On Wings of Song is a poem by the German Romantic poet Heinrich Heine, arrangement by Felix Mendelssohn.  
> When I learned that Brett was hospitalized, how Eddy comforted him in the IGstory, I can't help but writing this piece. They're so gentle I want to cry. The scene is actually a roleplay situation I and Jantelagen wrote together, so yeah, here it is. It is what it is.


End file.
